My Name is Erika
by Aria Saeryen
Summary: Erika's backstory. Oneshot.


My name is Erika.

I was born on the top of Mount Katten, in the kingdom there known as Kattenland. My parents, upon my birth, named me Erika after my father, Erik.

I, of course, had no idea of this, but Kattenland's Princess Anneliese was born at the exact same moment as I was. Later in life, my mother would tell me about the great celebration on the day I was born. Though she and my father knew it was for the princess, she would say it made them feel as though I was special. Since then, I knew I must be somehow important, being born on the same day as the princess.

My mother, Allyson, was the most wonderful human being to walk the realm of Kelia. She was like a fairy godmother to me, as she was so kind and always bright, even though we were very poor. She would sing her favorite song to me every night, before I went to sleep.

I never had any siblings. My mother always told me that I was her treasure, and that she didn't feel she could share that love with another child.

We may have been poor, but my childhood was, in general, very pleasant. I used to go into the streets of Kattenland during the day, where I would show particular interest in the flowers. Occasionally I would see something that made my heart leap: the Katten Blue Rose. When I first saw one at the age of six, I was fascinated that the roses could be any color other than pink. After some talking with my parents about it, I learned that the blue roses only grew in Kattenland, or at least had only been found here up to this point in time. The Katten Blue Rose instantly became my favorite flower. It smelled even more wonderful than the pink rose, and it was my favorite color: light blue.

I loved to sing, too. It was a passion of my mother's. My parents told me what an excellent musical voice I had. I used to prance around the streets and sing, a little girl's idea of fun. People would smile at me. In fact, the local baker soon knew my name, and told me that my daily songs made his day.

My very favorite song was taught to me by my mother. It was called "Written in Your Heart" and I still sing it fondly to this very day. I've known it for as long as I can remember. My mother probably first sang it to me when I was only a few days old. I never did ask her, which I regret.

I had an affinity with cats. When I was young, there were many stray animals roaming Kattenland (less, now, since Princess Anneliese has been working hard to get them all into good homes). For some reason, the kittens were never afraid of me. Adult cats would run sometimes or even frighten me with snarls, but the kittens always let me near them. I kept asking my parents if we could keep one, but we were too poor to keep a pet.

It was in my fourteenth year that everything changed.

I woke up one day, expecting it to be like any other, but my parents' faces were grave. I knew something must be serious.

My mother told me that the King of Kattenland had become ill. And to make matters worse, a few nobles had also gotten the disease. No one knew what it was.

We were all praying for the King to get better. He was a very good and just king.

However, I didn't think my life would necessarily be impacted that much – until the plague spread to the common folk.

My parents had ordered me to stay indoors, which made me miserable. I knew that it was only for my protection, as people had started dying of the unknown illness, but all the same, I cried every day and prayed the disease would go away soon.

Then, the King died.

Even the weather was gloomy that morning we heard. There were gray clouds over Mount Katten and its immediate surroundings. All the palace windows were closed, or so we'd heard. We'd also heard that only one person didn't seem devastated about the whole matter: Preminger, the royal advisor. It struck me as a little suspicious.

Later that same day, I noticed my mother was walking more slowly.

The next day, both she and my father fell ill. I was scared. About everyone who had caught this thing had not recovered. My mother still sang to me from her bedside, and she promised if the worst should happen, I would be okay. They'd made arrangements with someone.

About two months later, a week after my fifteenth birthday, they both died. My father was first, and I was with my mother throughout.

It was a terrible day. I cried so hard that I was surprised I had any tears left. I was all alone now. Why, oh why, oh why?

Some time later – or perhaps no time at all – someone knocked on my door.

It was Madame Carp, the local dressmaker. She claimed she was my legal guardian now.

I went with her only because I had nowhere else to go.

It turned that I'd only survived as a baby because my parents had borrowed a lot of money from her. I had to work for her to pay off their debt.

I didn't want to work, especially not now. But she was stubborn. Fortunately, my parents had taught me how to sew, perhaps because of this.

I found that I was expected to work all day every day. I was getting sick of it, but I had inherited from my parents a sense of honor, and they had promised to pay her back. Since it was up to me now, I didn't feel I could break it. I thought their souls might be weeping from shame if I did. Still, I sang. I sang as I worked, and I knew that once my debt was paid, I was free to go and follow my dream.

It wasn't all bad. I made a new friend in the seamstress Bertie, and I found a strange little kitten one day while wandering outside. The kitten was white with brown patches, and he was barking and panting. He was chasing his own tail and seemed to be enjoying himself. I adopted the kitten and named him Wolfie. Thankfully, Madame Carp didn't object, though I doubt she completely approved.

That is the story of my childhood up to the point when I met the princess and found that we looked alike.


End file.
